Annabelle: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 2)

by Audrey Harrison

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about Lady Joan lately,” Frances admitted.

  “She won’t be returning the compliment!” Mrs Adams said tartly.

  Chapter 18

  Frederick and Annabelle talked. They talked about everything and anything. It was as if now there was no secrets between them, it had taken away an unseen pressure, and they chatted long into the night. They were aware they were neglecting their guests, but both thought that, by leaving them alone, they might find a way to work through their own difficulties.

  Annabelle could not stop touching Frederick. She had undressed him until he wore only his shirt and breeches and, finally, she had the confidence to hold him and kiss him. Frederick had slowly started to touch Annabelle in return, never pushing her too far and taking things very slowly.

  On the second night, the house had quieted as everyone slept, but the candles still burned in Annabelle’s bedchamber as she snuggled into Frederick’s shoulder. She dozed against his neck, her arm draped loosely around his waist.

  “I think it’s time for you to go to bed,” Frederick whispered. “You still have a head wound; I don’t want you to get overtired.”

  “The wound is fine; it will be gone soon enough,” Annabelle said drowsily not wishing to move.

  “It will stay in my memory for a long time to come,” Frederick said. “I still can’t forgive myself for hurting you.”

  “It doesn’t matter; it was an accident, but you did hurt me before then,” Annabelle replied.

  “When?” Frederick asked, surprised.

  “Remember when I came to see you in your bedchamber and Caroline was there? I had come to tell you some news, and you told me you were leaving me,” Annabelle responded, snuggling deeper, as if the contact with Frederick would wipe away the memory.

  “I thought it was for the best,” Frederick said quietly.

  “It wasn’t,” Annabelle responded.

  “I know that now!” Frederick smiled. “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

  “I’d been talking to Frances and something struck me,” Annabelle replied.

  “What?”

  “I realised I was in love with you,” Annabelle said sleepily.

  Frederick sat up, dislodging Annabelle from her comfortable spot and forcing her to look at him. Annabelle moaned in protest to lose her place, but looked at Frederick with a smile. “You heard me then? I love you,” she said quietly.

  “I never thought you did,” Frederick said honestly.

  “I always thought you handsome and kind and you made me feel so safe, but I suddenly realised it was more than that. I had fallen in love with you,” Annabelle said with a smile, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “Since I’ve told you everything, I think I have fallen in love with you all over again.”

  “Annabelle,” Frederick said hoarsely. “I really don’t deserve you.”

  “No, it’s the other way round. Why would you not deserve me? You are everything that is good: I am so very lucky to have been introduced to you,” Annabelle said.

  “You know I am seen as a freak,” Frederick said. “Our lives will always be difficult because of the reaction my eyes receive when we meet new people and old acquaintances, come to that.”

  “Do you know, it was quite early on that I stopped noticing them, but they do have an advantage,” Annabelle said with a teasing smile.

  “Really?” Frederick asked. “I can’t imagine what.”

  “I know when you like what I do to you, because they both darken in colour, and there is hardly any difference,” Annabelle said, leaning over to kiss her husband, proving her point.

  Frederick groaned but pulled away a little. They had been teasing all night and he was fit to burst. “Annabelle, we need to stop.”

  “Why, are you too tired?” Annabelle asked, knowing the hour was late.

  “Tired? No! You are driving me insane. You have no idea what real effect you have on me, and there is a point a man reaches when reason flies out the window, and I’m reaching that point. I don’t want to force you to do anything you are not happy with, so we need to stop.”

  Annabelle laid her head back on Frederick’s shoulders. “I feel so safe with you,” she whispered.

  “Good, I hope that never changes,” Frederick said, squeezing her gently.

  “Can I ask a question?” Annabelle asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I want to go further with you, but I’m afraid that when….when you move on top,” Annabelle said, grateful her face was hidden. “I will panic, and I will spoil everything again.”

  Frederick hooked his finger under Annabelle’s chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. He smiled at the flush that covered her cheeks and kissed her gently on the lips. “Do you really want to go further?” he asked and closed his eyes in relief when she nodded. “Annabelle,” he said hoarsely. “I won’t use that position; there are other ways we can….”

  “Are there?” Annabelle asked in surprise.

  “Oh yes, my love, oh yes,” Frederick responded. He took her into his arms and kissed her passionately. The kiss was deep and long, but Annabelle responded to him without restraint. Eventually Frederick pulled away. “I’m going to take you to bed Annabelle, and I will show you what you should have been shown from the beginning.”

  Frederick carried Annabelle to the bed before climbing next to her and holding her close. She was finally willing to be his, and he was going to make sure he banished the hurt and brutality she had been shown.

  *

  Annabelle woke when the light streamed through the slit in the curtain. Her door had been locked, so her maid had not yet intruded. She smiled and kissed the hand that held her gently even as Frederick slept. Last night had been scary at first, but he had been true to his word and shown her it did not have to hurt: she could receive pleasure as well as give it.

  They had fallen asleep finally, both exhausted, not long before the sun began to rise. Annabelle did not feel she wanted to sleep; yet again it felt that a weight had been lifted from her, and it was thanks to the man who had been forced to marry her.

  As if aware she was thinking about him, Frederick stirred and kissed the top of her head. Annabelle snuggled into him further in response to the kiss. “Mmmm, what a lovely way to wake up,” Frederick said, his voice hoarse with lack of sleep. “I could get used to this.”

  “So could I,” Annabelle responded with a blush, but she meant the words.

  Frederick climbed over the top of Annabelle, kissing her as he moved, so he could see her face. “Does this mean, my darling wife, that I am to expect more nights like last night?” he asked teasingly.

  “I don’t see why not,” Annabelle said with an arch smile.

  “Oh, my god, I’ve died and gone to heaven!” Frederick groaned, rolling onto his back.

  Annabelle laughed and draped herself across him, her hair tumbling around her shoulders and falling onto his bare chest. “No, you are in my bedchamber, and I intend keeping you here for as long as possible!”

  Those were the last words Annabelle uttered for quite some time while Frederick showed his wife even more just how much pleasure could be given and received when two were so well matched.

  *

  Annabelle knocked gently on Frances’s door. She entered on hearing Frances’s voice and smiled when she saw her friend. “Can you forgive me for sadly neglecting you these last few days?” she asked as she entered the room.

  “From the twinkle in your eyes, I would say things have been resolved with yourself and Lord Stannage, so of course I can forgive you,” Frances said, returning her friend’s smile. “I am very happy for you both.”

  “So am I, Frances; so am I!” Annabelle exclaimed, sitting down. “I don’t deserve him, but he is wonderful!” she gushed.

  “You make a lovely couple; I saw that in Carlisle,” Frances said honestly. “I’m glad you realise you are perfect for each other.”

  “I hope so; we are still gett
ing to know each other, but that doesn’t stop me feeling guilty for neglecting you. Have you solved any of your differences with Mr Adams?”

  “Well, no,” Frances said honestly. “It appears that yesterday he visited his mother and told her of what had gone on between us; she visited me, but he did not return last night or this morning.”

  “Oh, my goodness! You have been alone; I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise!” Annabelle said, mortified.

  Frances smiled. “Don’t trouble yourself; I wouldn’t have been much company anyway: I had a lot to think about after Mrs Adams left. I was surprised Stuart didn’t return though. I hope people won’t link his arrival with you.”

  “It is irrelevant if it does or not. It’s time to stop hiding. I’m going to send a note to Rosalind today, explaining we are returned and hopefully visiting her soon,” Annabelle explained.

  “I’m glad you’ve sorted everything out,” Frances said with feeling.

  “As am I; I never thought I would ever feel as I used to when Rosalind cared for us and there were no other worries than how we could annoy Mama; but for the first time in many months, I finally feel happy,” Annabelle said. She could not confide in her friend exactly what had gone on, but she did not need to.

  “Good! Lord Stannage does seem a thoroughly decent man; he also deserves to be happy,” Frances said.

  “I shall be spending every day for the rest of my life in making sure he is,” Annabelle said with a smile. “But more important than my babbling, what about you Frances? What are you going to do?”

  Frances frowned. “I’ve made a mistake, one that I hope to rectify, but I’m not sure if it’s too late. I hope not.”

  “What can I do to help?” Annabelle asked.

  “Could I have use of a carriage today please? I need to pay the Adams household a visit,” Frances said firmly.

  “You’re brave going to them,” Annabelle responded with a smile.

  “Not really; I’d much prefer to hide away and pretend it would work out well, but I’ve made this mess: it’s up to me to try and fix it. If things have gone too far, I can only blame myself,” Frances said, sure of the need to try and correct the effect her recent behaviour had on Stuart. “I don’t blame him for not returning; I’ve behaved abysmally over these last few days. I was acting as if I didn’t want him, but I didn’t want anyone else to want him either. I haven’t been fair.”

  “I’m sure he will understand,” Annabelle assured her.

  “I’m not sure I do,” Frances said with a smile.

  Chapter 19

  Frances had never been so nervous travelling towards the Adams household as she was today. She dressed in her best day dress, which could have been seen as vain, but she needed the extra confidence that looking her best gave her. So, her figure was encased in a pale blue muslin gown with cream ribbon. Her cream spencer enhanced the colour of her skin. Annabelle had insisted in staying to give advice about France’s hair, the result being a tumble of pale blonde locks that framed her face set into place by the bonnet decorated with matching pale blue flowers and feathers.

  She exclaimed when Annabelle returned from her bedchamber and applied a touch of lip colour to Frances’s lips. “It will draw his attention, and he won’t wish to talk, just kiss,” Annabelle had said confidently.

  Frances laughed, not reminding her she had already had a taste of Stuart’s kisses; they still haunted her dreams at night. If she mentioned the kisses, Annabelle would think she had an easy task ahead when, in reality, Frances knew it would not be easy at all.

  She arrived at the house to be told Mrs Adams was out visiting, but Mr Adams would see her shortly if she would take a seat in the small study. Frances did not take off her bonnet or gloves; she was not sure of the welcome she was going to receive and did not want to presume anything.

  Stuart walked through the door and made a small bow to his visitor. “Good morning, Frances; I’m afraid Mother is out for the afternoon. I did not realise how much time she now spends at Sudworth Hall,” he said good-naturedly, but his tone was that of a formal acquaintance.

  “Yes, I was used to spending quite a bit of time there. We got into the routine of arriving at the end of morning calls and staying to visit with Annie as well,” Frances explained.

  “Yes, my absence makes me a stranger with my mother at the moment, but I’m sure we shall soon fall into a happy routine,” Stuart said, taking a seat. “Would you like some refreshments, or is your visit a brief one?”

  Frances already realised Stuart was not going to make this easy for her, and she could not blame him, although she had no real plan to overcome his cool attitude. “Are you not returning to Stannage House?” she asked.

  “No, I’m no longer required there; I thought it best to come home where I was wanted,” Stuart said. He kept his face passive throughout the exchange, but he noticed how well Frances looked. He was trying to ascertain whether she had come to visit his mother or him. At the moment, he was not sure what she wanted, but he needed her to be the one to be honest and open.

  “Mrs Adams will be so happy to have you nearby once more. She did miss you terribly, although she understood why you were doing it,” Frances said quickly, not wishing to give the impression Stuart had been neglecting his mother.

  “Yes, she has indulged me over the years. I’m hoping to repay some of that by sharing her latter years here. As I’ve said before, my travelling days are over.”

  “And I was abominable in my responses to you. I have come to apologise sincerely to you. I should not have behaved in the way I did; you gave me the greatest of compliments, and I behaved like a spoiled miss,” Frances admitted.

  Stuart smiled for the first time since entering the room. “It did take me a little by surprise,” he admitted. “I was faced with a Frances who was nearly unrecognisable.”

  Frances returned the smile. “I hardly recognise myself when I think back to what I said. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “My mother wouldn’t tell me what she said to you; I hope she didn’t try to browbeat you into changing your mind: I assure you I did not ask her to persuade you one way or the other. If she had trouble accepting your refusal, I didn’t; but that was probably because I heard it, and she didn’t,” Stuart said, half apologetic and half defensive.

  “No, she didn’t try to browbeat me,” Frances said with a smile. “She was her usual self.”

  “That’s what I was worried about,” Stuart replied.

  Frances laughed. “Your mother is a wise, kind woman,” she said. “She only speaks when there is something to be said.”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t know the meaning of using flowery phrases to dilute the harshness of some of her speech,” Stuart responded.

  “No, but I hope when I reach her age and experience, I will have no need for flowery phrases either. There is a lot to be said for direct speech,” Frances said with feeling.

  “Lord Stannage was correct; I proposed to a younger version of my mother!” Stuart said with a groan.

  Frances was mortified. “You had a conversation with Lord Stannage about me?” she asked.

  “I did,” Stuart admitted. “He was trying to explain gently that he wanted to spend time with Lady Stannage without visitors being present. I asked for his indulgence in allowing us to stay a little longer while I tried to see if there was any hope with my proposal to you, but our conversation on that short walk we took seemed to show there would be no changing your mind. I shouldn’t have presumed you would; I suppose it was just vanity on my part, being surprised you had refused me.”

  Frances blushed, “I didn’t behave well that day,” she admitted.

  Stuart looked at the vision of loveliness sitting before him. He had never wanted anyone else, and it was unlikely he ever would, but it was torture seeing her looking so well and knowing she had refused him. “What do you want, Frances? Thank you for coming and apologising; it means a lot, but is there anything else you wish to say?” His tone was a lit
tle sharp, but he did not find it easy being in her company anymore.

  Frances swallowed; it was not an easy thing she had to do and, with the coolness facing her, she didn’t think she would have the resolve to go through with what she had intended to say.

  “Do you remember when we were all younger, there should have been no differences between the group of children, should there?” Frances said.

  “There always was; don’t forget I was one of the eldest, so I could see it more than you younger ones,” Stuart said, his tone more gentle.

  “Yes, Joan and Robert never let anyone forget who they were or how high they were in comparison to each of us,” Frances said, remembering the put-downs that both antagonists gave to everyone in their small circle of friends.

  “The older ones used to laugh at Robert and Joan, although Robert did have a way of getting under your skin,” Stuart said. “It hardly seems real that Peter and he are brothers, they’re so different.”

  “Yes, they were. Thankfully so; things would not be so happy if Robert were still Duke,” Frances said. “Do you remember Fanny, the Vicar’s daughter?”

  “Yes, vaguely,” Stuart said, frowning, trying to remember days long gone.

  “Joan almost tortured Fanny with words. I think she was sent to live with other family because of Joan’s behaviour; she was such a gentle soul she could not stand up to Joan,” Frances said. “We came to you a few times, seeking help.”

  “Yes, I remember; you were so afraid of upsetting anyone, so you didn’t want me to speak to Joan or your parents: you just wanted me to agree with you,” Stuart said with a smile.

  “Fanny bowed down to me in that respect; she did want to tell her parents, but I just needed your words of comfort,” Frances admitted. “I wrote to Fanny some years ago, apologising for the lack of support that I’d given.”

  “What did she say?” Stuart asked, curious.

  “She said that in effect Joan had done her a good turn. She met a wealthy man and was happily married and settled far better than she could have hoped if she had stayed in the locality. I was so relieved everything worked out for her,” Frances said with feeling. “But I think she was right to some extent, and your mother, if I’m truthful. I spent too long under Joan’s influence.